It seems that I have worn glasses most of my life.
It was the summer before my 8th grade year and my parents had taken my brother and me to a minor league baseball game in Fort Smith. At some point, I became interested in something that was on the scoreboard. I squinted in the general direction of the scoreboard and then, with some exasperation, asked, “Why do they put the scoreboards in the outfield where no one can see them?”
My startled parents asked a couple of diagnostic questions. I promptly found myself with an appointment to see Doctor Louise Henry in downtown Fort Smith.
Myopia. Nearsightedness. Glasses. Nearsightedness did not interfere with my reading. If it had, I might have warmed up quicker to the idea that I needed glasses.
Regardless of my wishes and desires, I got glasses. I didn’t wear them. I just kept them in my pocket.
Then, in the fall of my freshman year and following a hard-fought game with the Poteau Pirates, the football team boarded a school bus and headed for Stillwater. We all were looking forward to this grand trip. Few, if any of us, had ever seen a college football game, much less two in the same day. We were going to watch Oklahoma A&M play Arkansas in the afternoon and then watch Tulsa play Hawaii that night. I was excited.
In Stillwater, our tax-tickets were located in the northwest corner of Lewis Field. I couldn’t see. I was seated up several rows behind my teammates and slid my glasses from my pocket. It was a miracle.
Miracle or not, after actually seeing Pat Summerall of Arkansas kick a winning field goal, seeing the ball sail through the uprights, I returned my glasses to their place in my pocket.
At the University of Tulsa, our seats were on wooden bleachers in the south endzone of Skelly Stadium. Waiting until everyone was settled in, I made my way to an empty area in the west stands, retrieved my glasses and began to watch the game.
Come half time, I got up to make my way to the concession stand. I unthinkingly left my glasses on. I was coming around the south corner of the stadium when I found myself face to face, glasses to face, with my football coach, Dick Moseley.
Coach said, “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
I don’t know what I said, but I’m rather certain there was stammering and stuttering involved. I likely wanted to deny the glasses, but there they sat on my nose.
Coach asked where I was sitting and joined me there. We watched the game and talked football. A few minutes before the game was done, he got up and said, “Liked watching the game with you.”
Coach Moseley had accepted and blessed my glasses.
Over the years, others have accused me of over-valuing coaches and their impact on their players. Believe me, I have not.
I never questioned the integrity of an umpire. Their eyesight, yes. – Leo Durocher
